


Les Oranges Pour Martina

by Hathanta



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, PWP, complete porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:03:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hathanta/pseuds/Hathanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is nothing to say. It is just porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Les Oranges Pour Martina

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sacchan90](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sacchan90/gifts).



> For Martina on her birthday <3

They’re kissing, stood in the middle of the room, Montparnasse with his hands twined into Jehan’s hair, dominating his mouth, and Jehan, fingers gliding over his back and hips, giving Montparnasse everything. Montparnasse rakes his teeth over Jehan’s lower lip, biting at is as he slides a hand down to grope his ass, grinding forward at the same time, eliciting a moan from Jehan. He presses forward, and guides them to the sofa, their lips not parting, but for the gasped breaths between the hard kisses – surprisingly hard for such rose-soft mouths.  
At the last moment, Jehan slips to the side, and spins them round, so that it is Montparnasse that sits down heavily, legs apart, and heavy lidded eyes locked onto his lover. Still standing, Jehan slips his long poet’s fingers languidly beneath his shirt and pulls it off over his head, stretching up show off his pale, gently freckled torso, while gazing at ‘Parnasse from beneath his lashes. On the sofa, Montparnasse palms at the bulge in his jeans and Jehan’s hips cant forward as if in answer.   
With the shirt on the floor, Jehan slides his hands down his body, fingers smoothing over sensitive nipples and rips, and down so that his thumbs catch in his waistband, pulling his jeans low over his hips. Montparnasse’s tongue flicks over his teeth, and, with a smirk, Jehan finally pulls his jeans and underwear off, immediately straddling ‘Parnasse’s lap and leaning in for a kiss, grinding down on the hardness beneath him. Montparnasse makes a sound in the back of his throat, and his hips move up to meet Jehan’s; a moan is caught between their mouths, and swallowed.   
Breaking from the kiss, Jehan reaches down the back of the sofa for the lube which he knows is there – they can be careless like that – but when ‘Parnasse goes to take it from him, he whispers, ‘Let me,’ breath hot against Montparnasse’s neck, and ‘Parnasse raises his eyebrows, then smirks and settles back, opening his own jeans to stroke himself, while using his other hand on Jehan. The poet lets his head fall back, biting his lip, and thrusting into ‘Parnasse’s dry fist. Then he concentrates, spreads his fingers with lube, and reaches behind himself. The angle is good and Jehan circles his entrance, pressing gently and teasing, until finally he pushes a finger into himself, arching and pressing back against it. Montparnasse is whispering to him, telling him that he’s good and beautiful, and running his hands up Jehan’s chest to toy with his nipples. He needs more lube, and there’s a moment of straining, needing friction, heat, before he’s sliding two fingers in, and letting out a soft, “Oh” as the realisation of pleasure shivers through him. Montparnasse is fishing a condom from his pocket (he still has his jeans on but there is no way that Jehan is moving so he can remove them) and rolling it on, as Jehan fingers himself as best he can, but he can’t get that spot. Then ‘Parnasse is pushing his hands away and pulling Jehan further into his lap, and Jehan can feel his hands on his thigh, his hip, and the head of his cock against his entrance, and then the length of him, as Montparnasse’s hands push at his hips, and he sinks down willingly. Their lips meet in a breathy kiss with too much teeth, and Jehan rolls his hips, drawing a groan from ‘Parnasse. Knuckles white on the back of the sofa, he does this again, lifting himself up, and pressing down, fucking himself, and ‘Parnasse slides down slightly, and then his cock is hitting that place, shocking pleasure through him, and he cries out as Montparnasse’s fingers dig into his hips, and he thrusts upwards, into Jehan again and again, each gasping desperate breaths into the other’s mouth. Then Montparnasse’s hand finds his leaking cock, fisting around it, jerking him off. He slides his thumb over the head, and Jehan is gasping, broken stanzas of poetry ricocheting around his mind as he grinds down onto ‘Parnasse’s jeans, biting off a moan and painting his chest. He feels him thrust up once as Jehan clenches around him, and then they’re still, relaxing as they wash down from orgasm, Jehan’s fingers trailing into dark hair, as he leans forward, reverently, and kisses his lover.


End file.
